Notes on WAR AND PEACE Women in Tolstoy, The Diligent Mavrusha, the Resolute Dunyasha

 

                                                                         Women in Tolstoy

Feminists have often poured out their wrath upon the head of poor, dead Tolstoy, and—especially if held to modern, stringent standards—Tolstoy is a sinner against muliebrity. He has the "wrong" point of view on women's rights and abortion, even on contraception (see Anna Karenina). On the other hand, who in world literature has ever written better about women? Reading the passage in War and Peace describing the women in the Rostov household preparing for the big New Year’s Eve Ball of 1809/1810—in Volume Two, Part 3, Ch. 14—leaves me amazed at how well he captures the spirit of excitement in the air.

 “Having finished doing her hair, Natasha, in a short petticoat, her ball slippers showing from beneath it, and wearing her mother’s bed jacket, ran up to Sonya, looked her over, and then ran to her mother. She turned her mother’s head, pinned on the toque, and, taking a quick swipe at kissing her gray hair, ran back to the maids who were taking up her skirt.

                The only thing now was Natasha’s skirt, which was too long. Two maids were taking it up, hurriedly biting off the thread. A third, holding pins in her lips and between her teeth, kept running from the countess to Sonya; a fourth held the whole gauze dress on her high-raised arm.

                ‘Mavrusha, darling, be quick!’

                ‘Hand me the thimble there, miss.’

                ‘Will you hurry up, finally?’ the count said, on the other side of the door. ‘Here’s your perfume. Mme. Peronsky must be tired of waiting.’

                ‘It’s ready, miss,’ said the maid, lifting the taken-up gauze dress with two fingers, and shaking it and blowing at something, showing by this gesture an awareness of the airiness and purity of what she was holding.

                Natasha started putting the dress on.

                ‘Just one moment, don’t come in, papa!’ she cried to her father, who had opened the door, still under the gauze of her skirt, which covered her whole face. Sonya slammed the door. A moment later the count was admitted. He was wearing a dark blue tailcoat, stockings and shoes, was perfumed and pomaded.

                ‘Papa, you look so handsome, it’s lovely!’ said Natasha, standing in the middle of the room and spreading the folds of the gauze.

                ‘Allow me, miss, let me,’ said the maid, on her knees, pulling at the dress, and moving the pins with her tongue from one side of her mouth to the other.

                ‘Say what you like,’ Sonya cried with despair in her voice, looking at Natasha’s dress, ‘say what you like, it’s still too long!’

                Natasha stepped back to look at herself in the pier glass. The dress was too long.

                ‘Lordy, no, miss, it’s not too long at all,’ said Mavrusha, who was crawling along the floor after her young lady.

                ‘Well, if it’s too long, we can take it up, we’ll take it up in a minute,’ said the resolute Dunyasha, taking a needle out of the fichu on her breast and setting to work again on the floor.

                Just then the countess came in bashfully, with quiet steps, in her toque and velvet dress.

                ‘Ohh, my beauty!’ cried the count. ‘Better than any of you! . . .’ He was about to embrace her, but she retreated, blushing, so as not to have her dress rumpled.

                ‘Mama, the toque should be more to one side,’ said Natasha. ‘I’ll re-pin it,’ and she rushed forward, and the sewing girls, who could not keep up with her, tore off a piece of gauze.

                ‘My Lord! What is this? It’s not my fault, I swear . . .’

                ‘Never mind, I’ll stitch it up, it won’t show,’ said Dunyasha.

                ‘My beauty, my queen!’ the nanny said, coming through the door. ‘And Sonyushka, too, what beauties!’

                                Pevear and Volokhonsky translation, with a few slight changes

 

Of all the wonderful details in this passage, my favorite are those describing the resolute Dunyasha and the diligent Mavrusha, bustling about with pins in their lips and teeth, crawling along the floor, shaking out the folds of the beautiful airy dress. Thanks to their efforts Natasha will be the belle of the ball, and Prince Andrei will fall in love with her.